


Tasteful Delights

by MyThoughtBubbles



Series: Delights [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Forced Relationship, Getting Together, Hanahaki Disease, Hatake Kakashi Being an Asshole, Hatake Kakashi is Bad at Feelings, Hatake Kakashi-centric, Heartbreak, Hostage Situations, Iruka is a Little Shit, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Parent Umino Iruka, Protective Hatake Kakashi, Slow Burn, Umino Iruka Adopts Uzumaki Naruto, Umino Iruka-centric, Vignette, dying for love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-01-26 14:03:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21375331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyThoughtBubbles/pseuds/MyThoughtBubbles
Summary: A series of vignettes about Kakashi and Iruka. Includes Ninja-verse, AUs, and hybrids.Tags will be updated with each upload.1. Kakashi Takes a Hostage2. Kakashi Catches a Thief3. The Breakup and Makeup4. Hanahaki Disease; or Kakashi's Newest Problem
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi & Umino Iruka, Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Umino Iruka & Uzumaki Naruto
Series: Delights [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678909
Comments: 27
Kudos: 394





	1. Kakashi Takes a Hostage

**Author's Note:**

> All beta credits go to [HazelBeka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelBeka/pseuds/HazelBeka) <3

If fuck ups come in trios, Kakashi has one to go. 

He manages to shut the passenger door behind him and jams his glock into the ribs of the poor kid he's clearly startled awake. Brown eyes focus blearily on Kakashi through long lashes and glance down at the gun, widening comically. Bad luck he slept with the doors unlocked.

"Drive," Kakashi barks, lacing enough threat in his words to send the kid scrambling to get out, trapped by the seat belt he never unstrapped. 

Gritting his teeth with impatience, Kakashi digs the glock deep into the kid's side, his hands clammy.  _ "Sit the fuck down and drive.” _

The kid freezes and nods fervently. "Shit, okay, okay!" He reaches for the wheel, jams his key into the ignition, and peels out of the parking lot, away from Kakashi's demise.

Breathing in through his nose, Kakashi presses his free hand to his thigh, blood welling and spilling beneath his palm. He hisses quietly, the pain not fully there.

Three strikes and you're out.

Ignoring the quiet chatter of some trivial morning news station, Kakashi watches and listens for incoming cruisers. He can almost hear the wail of the sirens, the crackle of the radios as the dispatcher sends the cavalry off once the calls flood in.  _ Shots fired! Someone fled the scene! There's been a murder! _ The pounding of his heart is louder than ever, echoing in his skull until he hears nothing else and has to look away. 

Each mile takes them further away and relief soothes Kakashi's frayed nerves, but only for a moment. He mentally adds hostage charges to the growing list in his head and takes a paranoid second to scan for cops again. It should have been called in by now. He ducks low just in case, the gun never wavering.

"I’ll ask that you don't kill me," the kid says in a surprisingly steady voice, white-knuckling the steering wheel. "I don't have any money and-"

"Calm your shit, kid, I'm not looking to add murder charges on top of everything," Kakashi snaps, all of his energy vanishing as the adrenaline abruptly wears off and lets him feel the full extent of his injuries. At the very least, it hadn't been his bullet.

Mistake after mistake. Strike three, incoming.

The kid glances at his leg and back to the road, scrubbing at his scarred cheek. "Do you need to go to the hospital, or...?"

Kakashi grinds his molars together. "Kid. I'm two seconds away from—" They hit a pothole and Kakashi can't muffle the low groan of pain ripped from his throat as white fire lances up his spine from his thigh to nestle in his mind, blackening his vision. His hold slips and blood pours freely from his wound, the jagged, red circle taunting Kakashi.

"Shit, sorry," the kid says as he switches lanes, shooting Kakashi a worried look. "Seriously, there's a general hospital near the next exit—"

"Did you hear me say anything about a hospital?" Kakashi says waspishly once the pain crests. "Drive until I say stop. Murder charges are one thing, assault is another." 

The threat works and the kid falls silent, staring determinedly at the road. There's a strange tension to his jaw that Kakashi can't help but notice and analyze. Most people would be crying by now, pleading for their lives and for mercy. The kid gave it a shot and has given up and for that, Kakashi finds himself liking his captive. Not smart, but satisfyingly obedient.

The growing patch of blood on his jeans lets Kakashi know he's losing more blood than anticipated and he doubles down, increasing the pressure and biting back a howl of pain. Will he be able to be able to dig the bullet out? How far into his thigh was it?

"Move and I'll give you a matching one," Kakashi warns as he shrugs out of his jacket and sets his gun down in his lap, angled towards him with muzzle pointed towards the kid. The kid looks at him strangely and nods and Kakashi sets to work on creating a shoddy tourniquet. He rips off a shirt sleeve, pointedly avoiding the small swirl tattoo on his bicep. He wraps the sleeve around his thigh and over the hole and watches as it instantly soaks and reddens. He’s not one for wound care, so it’ll have to do until he’s safely in another district and alone. He picks up his gun and resumes his guard, leaning heavily on the door.

As they exit the city, Kakashi studies his hostage. 

The kid is relatively good looking; brown, doey eyes, thick hair up in a ponytail, slim profile, lean build. All in all, not bad and well within Kakashi’s type. The large scar running across his face might be an interesting story; Kakashi’s own facial scar is a gruesome tale he shares only after a few too many beers. A large black duffle bag rests on the back seats, bearing no logo and letting out a soft  _ clink _ with each turn the car takes. The haggard, sleepless smudges under the kid’s eyes and the copious amounts of empty coffee cups feed Kakashi further clues but nothing concrete about the kid’s personality. He unceremoniously decides the kid is damn attractive and subsequently feels even worse.

Is this the third?

Kakashi knows the moment the kid is aware of his overt staring by the pinkening of his ears and the self-conscious hunch of his shoulders as he peers over and meets Kakashi's heterochromatic eyes, a tiny spark of interest gleaming where fear and panic should be. He's disgusted by the pleasure it brings him; he isn't a cradle robber, goddammit! Nevermind the myriad problems attached to his name, he has to have  _ some _ morals.

After a few minutes of silence, the kid sighs and Kakashi wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, traces of lightheadedness pestering him and making the world tilt on its axis. "Kid, you're taking this surprisingly well," he remarks, softening his prickly approach, knowing full well how he was trying to come across.  _ Hey, sorry for taking you hostage. The name’s Kakashi and I’m in the middle of a full-on midlife crisis. Mind getting coffee someday? _ "No crying or begging. You got a death wish?"

The kid has the audacity to turn to Kakashi and pin him with a long-suffering glare before refocusing on the road. "The only thing I'll be crying about is getting your blood out of the upholstery after you’ve exsanguinated with the shit job you did on that tourniquet. Resale’s going to be a bitch."

Kakashi blinks and swears he's falling in love. That, or the blood loss was more extreme than he thought. "Med student?" he says dizzily.

The kid snorts. "Vet tech. I've been out of university for a decade and a half now, so  _ not a kid or a student _ . Do you mind trying not to bleed on the folders by your foot? I need the documents inside for the clinic."

Courteously, Kakashi shifts his injured leg to the side and the kid— _ not kid _ —smiles, prompting Kakashi to offer a crooked grin of his own. He off-handedly wonders why the world seems a little fuzzier on the edges of his vision.

"So," the kid begins casually, heading down a road that Kakashi isn’t familiar with, "what's a plainclothes officer doing with a bullet buried in his thigh and kidnapping hapless insomniacs? Funding that bad?"

"Off-duty," Kakashi corrects reflexively, snapping his jaw shut at his admission. Ice slides into his veins.

"Might want to hide the badge," the kid says and Kakashi peers down to see his traitorous badge peeking out of his shirt pocket, the etched letters of his last name winking at him mischievously. He hastily shoves it down, but the damage is done.

Despite being the one with the gun, Kakashi is ill as the power dynamic shifts dramatically. He can't harm a civilian, no matter how bad shit is going to hit the fan once his name is released. He's fucked six ways to Sunday and his angel of death his grinning at him beautifully, unaware he holds Kakashi's life in his hands.

"I'll tell you what, Officer Hatake," he carries on, regardless of Kakashi's internal plight, "I can keep the clinic doors locked for a little while longer and give you a hand in the back. Secretly of course. I'm sure both of us would like the privacy."

"What?" Kakashi croaks intelligently, mental whiplash tearing away at his cognitive processes.  _ "What?" _

"What can I say, I've always liked a man in uniform," the kid adds unhelpfully, a blush dusting his cheeks. "I'm Iruka, by the way. Iruka Umino." Iruka sends him another meaningful look through his absurdly long eyelashes and Kakashi swallows dryly.

Three strikes, you're out.


	2. Kakashi Catches a Thief

“Oi.”

Kakashi nudges the crumpled body with the toe of his sandal, a kunai ready in his palm. The thief doesn't move and Kakashi sighs. He tugs the small container of food rations out the enemy-nin’s hands and tucks it back into his pack; of all the valuables to target, food rations are generally a nonpriority. The attack was a laughable waste of his time on an already tedious return home and it leaves Kakashi annoyed. Unwilling to ruin his newly calm night with a pointless murder, and perhaps feeling a bit lonesome, he performs a cursory body search, eyebrows rising at the lack of weapons or scrolls. The nin is naked as far as defenses go.

Still, Kakashi uses chakra wire to secure the body up against a tree and returns to his campfire to wait on the opposite side, idly watching the thief. It doesn't take long for the other nin to wake up, a soft inhale giving him away. In a play of intimidation and for his own entertainment, Kakashi sharpens his kunais, the grating scratch of metal-on-metal loud and threatening in their little clearing.

The thief lifts his head and a pair of brown eyes find Kakashi, taking a second to focus from the concussive blow Kakashi nailed into his nape. “Mind letting me go?" he asks icily, his voice something Kakashi doesn't find unpleasant.

“Give me a reason to,” Kakashi says with an amused tilt of his head.

He regards Kakashi with the tell-tale look of a nin sniffing for information, taking in Kakashi and his encampment. His eyes flicker to Kakashi's hands. "I have no business with Konoha, nor her enemies. I pose no threat."

"Pretty words, for a thief."

A flash of guilt crosses the other nin's face. "Clearly, not even a thief if I'm bested so easily. Free me and you’ll never see me again." 

Kakashi raises a brow, punctuating his words with heavy scrapes on the kunais. "A thief nonetheless. Unless I'm mistaken about _ those _." He taps his own wrist, unbruised from the bite of shackles unlike the other nin's. "How long until they find out you escaped?"

The tan face pales and he looks away. "It’s not what it seems.”

“What it seems like is a caught thief with a bounty on his head. I have no use for the bounty.”

“So you’ll let me go?” The eagerness in his voice is cute.

“I’ll let you go,” Kakashi says slowly, savoring his words. “I’ll let you go once I find which village is looking for you.”

The other nin doesn’t speak to him for the rest of the evening, ignoring all of Kakashi’s cajoling and, soon, bored attempts to talk. 

* * *

Aware his captive is trying to quietly saw his way free from the chakra wire, Kakashi plays oblivious and leaves his back to the nin, busying himself by packing up camp and wiping dew off his gear. The sun is barely breaking over the horizon, leaving them swathed in grey and black hues that lighten with each passing second.

He doesn’t budge when the nin leaps to his feet, throws out a smoke bomb, and sprints towards an opening in the dense woods. Squinting through the dust cloud, Kakashi’s wrist is yanked to the side and he holds his ground. Lazily, he tracks the invisible chakra wire to the other nin on the ground, grappling with the glowing wire around his ankle

“You hid that smoke bomb pretty well,” Kakashi praises lightly, a part of his mind wondering where _ exactly _ that bomb was hidden. The barest of blushes heat his cheeks and his adjusts his mask as he comes to a stop, towering over his prisoner. “It was a decent attempt.”

_ “Let me go!” _ the other nin growls desperately, still wrangling with his restraint. “You have to let me go!”

“Tsk, you didn’t say please,” Kakashi tuts playfully, a grin tugging at his lips at the wrath-filled glare the nin shoots at him.

Suddenly, the nin’s face softens. The angry brows arch up, pleadingly, to grant Kakashi a full view of doe-like eyes that widen impossibly. His posture switches from defensive to subservient, his lips softening from their hard grimace to beseech Kakashi with a quiet, “please.” 

Kakashi’s heart stops and beats once, powerful enough to resonate through his body like a thunderclap and rouse his cock. _ Oh, fuck. _ The nin's hair falls to frame his face beautifully, the ends drawing Kakashi’s attention to pleading lips that Kakashi can envision sliding down his shaft. _ The Gods save him, he was summarily fucked. _

His hand moves and Kakashi can't tell if he’s following his own desires or playing to the nin’s attempts at seduction, or maybe both. He glides his palm lightly along the nin’s jaw, sliding down to span across his throat and perch his thumb beneath the nin’s chin, tilting his head back.

The nin’s throat moves as he swallows under Kakashi’s touch and Kakashi breathes through his nose, catching faint traces of the nin’s scent. His eyes never leave Kakashi’s, darkening as Kakashi slowly leans down, inclining his head as if to kiss him. The air seems to crackle with electricity and the nin’s eyes slide to half-mast, his cheeks rosy. Kakashi pauses when they’re inches apart, sharing heavy breaths.

“You’re not my type,” he finally manages, offering the biggest lie of his life with his best shit-eating grin. One blink and the spell is broken. The doe-eyes vanish and Kakashi jerks back as a pilfered kunai slices through the air where his throat had been.

_ “Fuck you!” _

_ Gladly and willingly _. Kakashi bites his tongue before the words can escape and he quickly disarms the nin, smartly pinning him face down with more chakra wire and taking back his kunai. A curtain of ruffled brown hair hides the nin’s face and Kakashi ignores the pang of disappointment, wanting to see his eyes again.

“You know, someone less courteous than me would likely take that offer. Bad negotiation tactic if someone has different proclivities.”

The spine beneath straightens rigidly and outrage screams from the hard set of his shoulders. The nin snarls something in a strangled voice and Kakashi can only make out the venomous “asshole” aimed at him. He cheerily smiles.

His journey home has improved greatly.

* * *

Traveling on foot with his captive trailing behind him, Kakashi thinks they're making progress; his nin is talking to him and has only attempted to escape twice more. He'd thought the man tired himself out after cursing Kakashi for a few hours, introducing him to a few words Kakashi hadn’t known and memorized with gusto.

“I’ll pay you. Whatever you want, I’ll pay you.”

“We both know you've nothing on you,” Kakashi supplies helpfully over his shoulder. He tugs on the wire, the nin’s bound wrists rising with the jerk. He doesn’t deny the perverse pleasure the nin's glare lights in his gut.

Now, anxiously, “I’m a thief, remember? I’ll find a way to get it.”

“As we’ve established, a rather poor one. My prospects look grim."

_ "Fucking just _listen! You can't turn me in! You don't understand!" 

The nin stops and Kakashi comes to the end of their tether, tempted to yank and send the nin to his knees. But Kakashi stills, something in the nin's tone plucking at his desiccated empathy. He faces the nin, dropping the sharper edge of his act. "Make me understand. Try me."

A tidal wave of emotions battles ferociously across the nin's face and Kakashi is surprised by the tiny glimpse of hope that appears. Kakashi waits and watches, idly thinking about lifting his hitai-ate to burn the image into his mind. His face was so _ open. _

The nin's mouth opens and closes a few times. Finally, he becomes guarded, lips sliding into a thin line. "I can't." His shoulders slump heavily with some unseen weight. _ "I can't." _

Kakashi says nothing, merely turns and resumes their journey.

* * *

It doesn't make sense.

Kakashi bites into a ration bar and washes away the taste with a swig from his canteen. He holds another bar in his hand, weighing his options. He glances at his morose captive, all vigor gone once Kakashi tracked down the path to a village a two day walk away. Each step closer and the nin retreats into himself, going far beyond the normal fear of prison and into a hopeless despair that _ doesn't make a goddamn bit of sense. _

What was so important that he was willing to risk being imprisoned? What was he hiding? Frustrated by his own mounting curiosity and the lack of answers, he sets camp early and trudges over to the missing nin and nudges him with the canteen and extra bar. "Eat up."

"Feeding the prisoner? Courteous, indeed." The nin takes the offerings and makes no move to eat them.

Kakashi lets the jab go, occupying himself with a brief survey of their clearing. "What is it you're protecting?" he asks, planting his gaze on the nin. His suspicions are proven true with the almost imperceptible twitch in the nin's hands and the widening of his eyes.

"My life. My freedom," he answers obliquely, aware Kakashi has caught him.

Kakashi ponders his own reply. "Will it be worth it?"

The nin closes his eyes, sorrow lining his face. "More than you'll ever know."

Hours from their destination, with the impending sense of their time together slipping away, Kakashi tries once more. “What’s your punishment to be?”

The nin appraises him, pinning Kakashi with dark-rimmed eyes from a night of poorly feigned sleep. “Feeling impatient? My, how bloodthirsty.” Anger cuts into his words, spilling out with a sudden burst. “Shall I describe to you my village’s favorite punishments in detail? Or would my warden prefer the visual spectacle? Perhaps he’ll be the one to declare the sentence, as he’s already leading me to judgement without so much as a second thought.” 

_ Ouch _ . _ I'm not that awful _, Kakashi thinks defensively, frowning. He faces the nin. “And what would you have me do? Release a thief that paints a pretty picture of having some miserable burden—” 

_ “He’s not a burden!” _ the nin cries, silencing Kakashi. He steps forward, straining against his bindings. “He’s not a burden, don’t you _ dare _ say that! Don’t you dare fucking say that! _ I’m all he has _!”

A sick, oily feeling settles in Kakashi’s stomach and he tries to reassess his thoughts, mind racing. He may have misjudged everything greatly.

The nin blinks at him, horrified at his own outburst. He backs away and Kakashi reaches for him, a hand outstretched.

_ “Wait—” _

The next minute, Kakashi loses him.

Kakashi knew they were being pursued by a small group of shinobi, had been for the last leg of the journey, but it never occurred to him that the target was his nin and not himself as the great Copy-nin, enemy of many. 

The shinobi drop onto their path precisely as his nin makes a final escape, hacking free of the chakra wire and slapping down a powerful tag that locks a surprised Kakashi in a barrier for a few long seconds, just enough for the nin to dart out of his reach. Too focused on Kakashi, his nin doesn't notice the rogue shinobi leaping out from the trees, cornering him.

Helpless, Kakashi watches as his captive realizes he's outmatched and tries to backpedal, jumping back as the shinobi reach for him. For one tense, immeasurable moment, his nin turns towards Kakashi and their eyes meet, utter fear eclipsing the fire that Kakashi likes so much.

Breaking free of the barrier, Kakashi is too late to stop the other shinobi from stabbing his nin with a doctored senbon and whisking his limp body away, leaping through the trees as fast as they had appeared. 

Kakashi starts towards them and is stopped by a lone member of the team who carefully approaches him with her hands up. He barely keeps himself from killing her for standing in his way.

She inclines her head. "We are truly fortunate to come across Hatake Kakashi, man of a thousand jutsus, owner of the pinwheel eye, to aid us in our work. We offer a percentage of our earnings to show good faith." She produces a small coin bag and holds it out to him.

_ Mercenaries. Hired muscle for the village hunting _ him _ … _ "What was the job?" Kakashi asks none too kindly. He doesn't take the bag.

"Returning an escaped prisoner," she answers smoothly. "One Iruka Umino, who had the unfortunate luck of running into you." Her words suck the warmth from Kakashi's body. "We shall report your aid to our masters and send correspondence to Konoha on your behalf. We also extend an invitation to visit the village as an honored guest. Please, right this way."

Kakashi wonders why he doesn't follow her back, rubbing his chest where a hollow emptiness resides and the name _ Iruka Umino _now echoes.

* * *

The jail, although difficult to find, was easy to infiltrate.

Striding down the looping hallways, Kakashi senses the building curving underground. The musky smell of wet earth grows stronger with each passing cell, all lined with pre-etched seals ready for an infusion of chakra to work. Beneath the musk, he catches faint wisps of Iruka's scent and follows it dutifully, unsure of what to do once he does find him. 

During the days following Iruka's kidnapping, he hasn't stopped once to think _ 'why.’ _

He catches a glimpse of himself on a door's glass window and an unfamiliar face glances back; it's been a long time since he resorted to disguising himself as the enemy, longer still since he conducted a one-man rescue.

Kakashi rounds a corner and pauses, hurried whispers and the clanging of shackles drawing his attention. Padding forward silently, Kakashi enters the hallway and sees no one; the noises come from the middle cell, the door slightly ajar. He approaches slowly.

"You little idiot,_ I told you to stay away _."

Kakashi inhales sharply, his blood burning hotter. He draws closer.

Then, a boy's voice, stubborn. "You can't make me. Anyways, I’ve been lookin’ for you."

"Dammit, it's not me they're after, Naruto, you know that. I told you I'd be back."

"You took too long. I waited for _ days. _I got hungry."

"_ Naruto, you can't be here _. Get away, quickly, before the guards find you."

"I won't leave you!" More clanging. "We're gonna get out, an’ then we can go home."

Iruka responds in a pained voice, "Naruto, I don't think I can get out this time."

"...what? What are you talking about?" the boy asks, his words quick with worry.

"Remember the path we found near the base of the mountain? Take it, follow it until you get to the village hidden in the leaves. Tell them you seek asylum. Remember that word, _ asylum. _Don't tell them what you are. Don't stay to see...to see what happens to me. I’ll be fine. You must leave under the cover of night. Go, now! They'll be back soon."

Now panicked, "Iruka-niisan, _ no—" _

Timing his entrance, Kakashi slips into the cell and finds a worn Iruka pointing a kunai at him, fiercely protective as he shoves a small boy behind him. The boy peeks at Kakashi around Iruka's thigh with big blue eyes that narrow in anger. _ So the rumors were true... _

"Touch him and I'll kill you!" Iruka snarls, his shackles jingling as he tightens his grip on the kunai. "You cruel bastards will have him over my dead body!"

Kakashi revels in the fury and takes stock of Iruka's body. He isn't happy about the chakra-leeching characters drawn across Iruka’s body, likely leaving Iruka as weak as a kitten yet with an iron will that somehow keeps him standing. "Never mind that; I have a question for you."

Wary, Iruka searches for an exit strategy, but Kakashi places himself between them and the gate, blocking the way out. "Is _ he _," Kakashi emphasizes with a jerk of his head, "worth it?" 

He lets the henge go, and tugs his hitai-ate in place after a quick inspection of the boy. The colossal amount of chakra hidden in him warrants the Hokage's attention and a beautiful plan knits itself together. _ What a perfect homecoming gift _.

_ "You," _ Iruka breathes, the kunai lowering a degree before straightening. "Come to make sure I don't escape?" he spits, shuffling Naruto further behind him.

"Quite the opposite, actually. I'm here to free you and the jinchuuriki."

Iruka tenses at the name and his eyes narrow in suspicion. "Give me a reason to believe that."

"Apologies for keeping you prisoner. It could've been worse," Kakashi says sullenly. "And because if we don't get out, we're all going down." Summoning a bit of chakra, he slams his palm onto the stone outside the cell. Immediately, the seals burst with glowing light, alerting the guards to a foreign use of chakra and triggering a few pre-set traps Kakashi dropped along his way.

Iruka blinks at him owlishly.

"Whoa," Naruto chirps, eyes wide. "How'd you do that?"

Kakashi grins. "Oh no, now they have my chakra signature deep within the bowels of their jail. Looks like I'm a wanted criminal on the run who requires an audience with my very sympathetic Hokage." He waits a beat, allowing his words to sink in. "We should leave," he reminds them mildly.

Iruka, his face endearingly confused, fully lowers his kunai. He grips Naruto's shoulder tightly and Kakashi can see the bit of strength he has left is failing him. "What? Why would you do that?" he asks weakly. 

"I’ll tell you once I know," Kakashi says. "Seriously, _ we need to leave _."

Naruto tugs on Iruka's hand. "I don't trust him. He's got one eye."

Iruka gives a breathless laugh and Kakashi thinks it’s beautiful. Kakashi turns to the little brat and stoops low. "I have to keep the other one hidden because I stole it." To Iruka, he holds out his hand, as if he were proposing. "They'll be here in less than a minute."

"Pretty words, for a criminal," Iruka retorts coolly and Kakashi wants to throttle himself. Then, the start of twinkle in his eye, Iruka grabs Kakashi's hand. "We'll trust him for now," he announces to Naruto. "First, he’ll have to get us out of here and the whole of Rain Country.”


	3. The Breakup

_“Because I do care,”_ Kakashi snaps back and Iruka is stunned into silence, his ears ringing.

The words fracture what’s left of Iruka’s heart and for a long, tense moment he stares at Kakashi, unable to speak in fear he’ll start shouting or crying. Quickly, his temper rears its head and he points an accusatory finger at Kakashi, gathering the simmering anger he’s tried so hard to hide. “Oh, so I should trust you to make decisions for me because you _care_. Forgive me, I seem to have mistaken what _care_ looks like. _Whatever_ was I thinking?”

Iruka can tell Kakashi is pissed, the angry set to his shoulders and his rigid masked jaw screaming it out to the world. “You’re being facetious. You know that’s not what I meant,” he says, his voice tightly controlled.

“No, I don’t know. Not anymore.”

Kakashi twitches, killing intent pouring off him. “Every decision I have made is to keep you safe. _Every single one.”_

"Funny way of showing that." Iruka laughs humorlessly, each of Kakashi’s words a barb hooking into his chest. “You care so much that you don’t care what I think, let alone how I feel,” he says, unable to hide the hurt in his voice that turns to pained pleading. “Did you ever stop to think that I know? I know what you’re going through, I know what’s at risk and I’m still here. I’ve known from the beginning.”

“The risks aren’t worth it, Iruka.” Kakashi shakes his head and looks away. “You’re asking too much.”

“Have they never been?” Iruka asks quietly, broken. “Gods, I wish you’d never…” he trails off, unable to lie. He stares at the ground, his vision becoming fuzzy with unshed tears. He had been _so happy_ moments ago; what happened? Why has it become so terribly wrong? With a shaky inhale, Iruka nods a few times and flees home.

He spends the rest of the day on his couch with the lights off, his face hidden in his knees with a few bottles of wine as his only companions. His tears give out long before his choked sobs.

* * *

The next morning, Iruka convinces himself he looks normal.

The red-rimmed eyes can be masked with a small genjutsu, as well as the slight pallor to his face. He almost makes it out the door with his facade in place, slipping his sandals on and calling out a habitual ‘goodbye.’ Mid-shout, Iruka realizes Kakashi isn't lazily draped along his sofa to hear him. He won't be there anymore.

The hole in his chest widens and grows heavier, rooting Iruka to the ground as he crumbles.

* * *

At the Academy, the genin are too busy trying to kill one another to pay attention to their morose teacher. He manages around the other instructors well enough, saving his strength for the gossip-hungry shinobi that man the Mission Desk. He fends off inquires with a facsimile of his usual temper, but a few grow bold, outwardly prodding him during brief lulls in traffic.

“Heard you and Hatake had a falling out.”

“Hey Iruka, Ebisu-san says he saw you and Kakashi-san arguing by the training fields.”

“Oi, you and Kakashi still a thing?”

“Did you guys fight?”

Iruka smiles politely, his face tight and likely fooling no one. “You nosy, slacking shinobi. If you must know, Kakashi and I have parted amicably. That’s all I’ll say.” The responses hurt as much as Kakashi’s words had.

“Well, it makes sense. A chuunin and a jounin; not really a good match.”

“About time. You guys were too different.”

“Don’t worry Iruka, he’s probably too damaged. You’ll find someone normal.”

“Half a year isn’t bad.”

Iruka watches the clock desperately and swallows down a nasty response that would've revealed too much.

A hush descends over the room as Kakashi steps in and Iruka's stomach plummets to his feet. Every eye darts from Iruka to Kakashi and back. Kakashi looks around, his aloof persona gone as he slips Make-Out Tactics into his flak jacket and doesn't turn towards Iruka. Someone is kind enough to clear their throat, prompting the Desk shinobi to busy themselves with rustling papers and awkward, stilted conversations.

Genma tries to catch his attention but Iruka stares fixedly at the table, hands on his knees to keep them from shaking. He wonders if Kakashi has looked at him yet, if Kakashi will look at him. His heart in his throat, nerves frayed with grief, Iruka wants to disappear. Through his peripherals, he sees Kakashi choose a different shinobi to receive a mission scroll from, something he’s never done before. The change is like a physical blow, leaving Iruka winded and hollow. Unerringly, Kakashi always chooses Iruka; it was how everything started.

Later, he finds hand-shaped bruises on his knees.

* * *

Iruka never intended to fall in love.

When Kakashi approached him, he was unimpressed, suspicious, even. He knew jounin were fond of their elaborate pranks and had no intention of playing the fool. Attractive as he was, Kakashi was considered _off-limits_ in Iruka’s mind, something he could fantasize about and never expect to be real. It was the nature of their world and their positions in that world. He was a well-liked pillar in the Konoha community and Kakashi their excellent defense; paths never to cross.

Being a persistent asshole with a penchant for romantic overtures and no small amount of luck, Kakashi inevitably wooed him, sweeping Iruka off his feet and dumping him into his chaotic world. It was rocky at first, but Iruka fell into a comfortable rhythm with Kakashi and found himself in love.

He’d thought Kakashi had felt the same.

Now cruelly stripped of that connection, Iruka wishes he could hate Kakashi. Hate him for whispering how much he cared for Iruka in the middle of the night, so that Iruka is haunted as he tosses and turns, mournfully wishing to sleep the days away. He wants to hate the shadows of Kakashi’s presence in his home, lingering on every surface and making him aware of how empty the flat was. He wants to hate how emotionally wrecked he is. He wants to hate the loneliness he would have never felt if Kakashi hadn't spoken to him on that fateful day.

For once, he’s glad Kakashi is out of Konoha on a long mission; he'll be okay as long as he doesn’t see him.

* * *

The worst part, Iruka thinks, is that _he understands._ He knows exactly why Kakashi decided to pull away. It's that Kakashi himself _doesn't understand_ that wounds Iruka the most.

He pops the cap off his beer and clumsily taps it against Izumo's. "S'a bad idea," he says carefully, his words already slurring. He takes a swig and then another, soon left with an empty bottle he adds to the three others on the table.

Izumo drunkenly grins at him and waves for another round. "This is a therapy session for your poor, aching heart. Let it be known that Kakashi's n'asshole."

Iruka frowns and snatches another bottle. "S'not an asshole, he's just stupid." He pauses. "No, he's both."

From the beginning, attaching his name to Kakashi meant painting a huge target on his back. Kakashi's enemies would become his; anyone wanting to harm Konoha could potentially use him as a way to get Kakashi to bend and betray Konoha, or outright harm him to hurt Kakashi. It was obvious and it hadn't taken long for Iruka to agree and accept Kakashi into his heart.

It was incredibly risky and still, Iruka chose Kakashi in spite of it all. He lived with fear whenever Kakashi took long missions, worried himself sick when Kakashi was injured and held at the hospital. He knew that someday, Kakashi might have to choose between him and Konoha.

Iruka had hoped their moments together were worth the risks, that Kakashi cherished them as much as he did.

"Stupid is as stupid does," Izumo crows wisely, unsure of his point. "He'll be back, and you can tell 'im to fffffuck off!"

Iruka nods, his world spinning. "I'll tell...I'll tell 'im he's an idiot. It'sa complex. Thinks he's doing good. I'll tell 'im that."

Izumo blinks at his bottle, eyeing the inside. "You gonna yell? Kotetsu says he arrived this mornin'."

Iruka's heart jumps and he wants to hide. "Loudly," he mutters.

As misguided as Kakashi's intentions are, Iruka understands and finds he can't hate Kakashi for being so goddamn stupid.

* * *

Asuma fingers his unlit cigarette, measuring his words. “I’m not here to make excuses for him,” he says.

Iruka stares at the jounin, barely familiar with him. He hikes the strap on his messenger bag higher on his shoulder. “Then don’t.”

Asuma sighs. “He’s trying to rope me into doing reconnaissance on you.” He lights his cigarette and inhales deeply. “Thought you should know.”

“Is that what this is?”

“No, I’m not in the habit of fixing other people's fuck-ups. He dug his own hole.”

Iruka gives a weak smile at that. “So this is a friendly warning.”

“This is me talking to myself about how miserable another man has made his own life. Should anyone overhear, they can do with that information what they will.”

* * *

“Asuma-san, Kurenai-san, Tsume-san, and a shinobi I’ve never seen before, Yamato. You’re not the first, Gai-san.” Iruka lifts the kettle from the burner and pours two cups. He takes one to Gai and sits down on the couch, avoiding Kakashi’s favorite corner.

Gai looks unusually uncertain. “I hope we’re not intruding too much.”

“I might’ve shouted at Tsume-san,” Iruka admits guiltily, fingering the rim of his cup. “But at the very least, I’m glad he’s not alone.”

“I gave him a stern talking to!” Gai straightens his back. “Kakashi is a very wise man, but can be very foolish, full of passionate obstinance.”

“You’ve known him longer than I have," Iruka answers. "I’ll take your word for it.”

Gai reaches over and places a heavy hand on Iruka’s shoulder. “He does love you. He just doesn’t know how to handle it yet.”

Iruka stiffens. “Forgive me, Gai-san, but I’d rather you don’t speak to me about that.”

“He’ll see reason soon enough.” Gai nods. “All jounin do.”

* * *

"Iruka-sensei, are you sure you're okay? I'm gonna eat your ramen if you don't want it."

Wincing, Iruka gives Naruto a small smile. "I'm not that hungry today. You can have my bowl, kiddo." He pushes his ramen to Naruto and sits up, mentally scolding himself for slouching on Ichiraku's counter. Heartbreak or not, he can't toil away in sadness. Besides, he isn't alone - he has a rambunctious genin to look after.

Naruto squints at him and doesn't take the bowl. "Why are you so sad? Does it hafta do with Kakashi-sensei?"

"I'm not sad," Iruka begins quickly, and stops when Naruto levels him with a knowing look that had no right to be on such a young child.

"I know what sad looks like, Iruka-sensei, I'm not stupid." He then takes Iruka's bowl and stirs, prodding at an egg. "If it does hafta do with Kakashi-sensei, I'll beat him up for you. He's a pervert, so you shouldn't be sad about him."

Iruka snorts at the image, a genuine smile curling the corner of his mouth. "I'm a bit upset," he admits, "but I'm trying to get over it. It'll take some time."

Naruto, in a rare show of perceptiveness, pops out of his seat and wraps his arms around Iruka's waist in a tight hug. He buries his face in Iruka's stomach. "Good, I don't like being sad."

Iruka's heart breaks in a way he can appreciate. He berates himself for stooping so low that Naruto has to comfort him but returns the hug just as tightly with a small kiss to Naruto's temple.

* * *

Iruka stares at him, a firestorm of delight and pain ripping open the edges of his healing heart.

"Can I come in?"

Iruka takes a moment to reply, biting back the 'yes' that bubbles in his throat. "I don't think that's a good idea," he says softly, proud of his steady tone.

Kakashi nods once and Iruka tries not to read into his grimace and furrowed eyebrows. He tries not to soak in every detail, every change in Kakashi's appearance. Is he thinner? Are the shadows under his eye darker?

"Would you be willing to talk outside?" Kakashi tries and this time, Iruka can't deny the hope evident in his tone.

He swiftly shields himself. "Kakashi, what is this about?" he asks.

Kakashi's eye narrows and his head cocks to the side, a sign Iruka memorized as Kakashi's way of hiding his frustration. "You want to do this here?" Iruka opens his mouth to say _something_ scathing, but Kakashi curses and grits his teeth. "Shit. No, that's not what I meant. I want to talk to you, about us. Not like before. Please."

Against his better judgement, Iruka wordlessly steps to the side, holding his breath as Kakashi enters.

Instead of waiting for Kakashi to begin, Iruka seizes the opportunity, having practiced his words a thousand times in the event he'd ever speak to Kakashi again.

"Before you say anything, you're going to listen to me and hear what I have to say. Are we clear?" His tone is sharp and cool, full of strength Iruka doesn't think belongs to him. Kakashi nods again and tugs down his mask, a rare sign of vulnerability.

He takes a deep breath. "Kakashi Hatake, you absolutely stupid, _idiotic_, condescending, manipulative _fucking asshole_!"


	4. Hanahaki Disease; or, Kakashi's Newest Problem

“Don’t interfere. They are no longer your students. They are my subordinates now,” he says coldly.

Iruka trembles with quiet hostility, his cheeks flushing a deep red, and Kakashi wants to smile, wicked satisfaction thrumming through his veins at the visceral dislike aimed his way. It’s almost too easy to provoke Iruka’s anger, a pastime Kakashi is very fond of.

The Sandaime interrupts Iruka’s ensuing reprimand and Team Seven is placed on the roster to join the Chuunin Exams. Something tickles in the back of his throat and Kakashi coughs into his fist, sarcastically playing it off. Iruka shoots him one last scathing glare that warms Kakashi to his toes and leaves, followed shortly by the rest of the committee. Kakashi clears his throat again and sends a reproachful Kurenai a shameless wink.

It's just their harmless game; he likes the chuunin, truly.

Grinning, Kakashi teleports to his compound and is abruptly sent into a harsh coughing fit. He tugs his mask down and hacks into his hand, disturbed by the sensation of something traveling up his esophagus. The fit passes and he stares at his hand, growing still.

Nestled wetly in his gloved palm is a tiny sakura petal.

_ What the fuck. _

* * *

Hana blinks at him. “You do know I’m a veterinarian, right? As much as you act like one, you’re not actually a dog.”

“You were a medical-nin first,” Kakashi counters evenly, arching a brow at the Inuzuka.

“Yeah, and there was a reason I switched.” She cocks her head. “But now I’m interested. Why not go to a practicing medical-nin?”

“Jounin paranoia.”

She laughs. “I would think leniency is given during psychological evals for jounin, but I’ll bite. What’s up?”

Kakashi considers his words carefully, the petal burning a hole in his pocket. “Do you know of any jutsus that involve coughing up flowers? Or an illness with the same symptoms? Does it sound familiar?”

Hana stares at him for a moment before glancing away and tapping her chin. “I won’t ask, but no. Nothing like that exists to my knowledge. I definitely would have remembered hearing about it from fellow medical-nins for sure.”

_ Well shit. _ Kakashi bids her a polite goodbye and leaves the Inuzuka compound.

He isn’t joking about having suspicious comments added to his charts—the last thing he needs is to be called in and have a Yamanaka digging around his skull for signs of becoming unhinged. He makes it to his scheduled appointment on time and finds no relief in being told the chakra pathways in his throat and his upper respiratory tract are all in perfect condition.

* * *

Konoha’s Archive Library proves to be somewhat helpful, with only vague references to the illness and documented incidents, but nothing concrete. No cures. 

Rare sweat builds at Kakashi’s temples. He closes the twentieth yellowed scroll he’s found and slides it back, his finger tapping restlessly on the wood housing. Another vividly pink petal sits beside him, partially crushed from his fist. So far, he’s sprouting petals once every few hours.

Unrequited love, what a fucking joke. He doesn’t love anyone. He _ likes _Iruka and at most it’s an innocent crush. The chuunin isn’t bad to look at.

He resists a disdainful scoff. The Great Copy Nin afflicted by a mythical disease from a small crush—it’s _ absurd _. Pride alone keeps him from entertaining the mere thought of reaching out to Iruka. Kakashi absently wonders if any of the enemy shinobi from his last few missions cursed him with a bizarre new jutsu that just so seems to match the illness.

Either way, he’ll find a cure.

* * *

“B or C-rank, I don’t care.”

Sandaime leans back in his chair, eyeing Kakashi curiously. “Forgive an old man’s nosiness, Kakashi, but why those villages specifically?”

“I’ve discovered strange cases of a chakra-related illness in those regions and would like to personally investigate. It may prove to be battle-valuable,” he says, hiding the truth in a lie. The itch begins again and Kakashi swallows in vain, the petal sticking to the sides of his throat. He wants to gag.

Sandaime smiles broadly, a twinkle in his eye. “Let no one say that Konoha shinobi rest. I’ll grant your inquiries and allow you to leave at your behest.”

Kakashi bows sharply and turns to leave as Sandaime calls out to him once more.

“And Kakashi? Remember, your genin team will be entering the Chuunin Exams. Your teaching will be reflected in their skills. I may have chided Iruka-sensei, but his points were valid. Do not forget.”

“I still hear them ringing in my ears,” Kakashi says smartly. 

He leaves minutes later, a new petal tossed away around the chuunin barracks.

* * *

Panic doesn’t come lightly to Kakashi; throw in his pride and he refuses to admit to anything but cool aloofness, even at the brink of death. He isn’t panicking.

He rereads the article and ignores the pit of lead settling in his stomach. Kakashi gathers the rest of the books and leaves the tiny village’s dingy central library, treading through mud and rain to get to his equally as dingy hotel room. The civilians around him see nothing but a coughing young man that may or may not look eerily like Iruka.

Once alone, Kakashi releases the henge and forces the tremor in his hands away. Calmly, he reveals the Sharingan and stares at the name of his affliction.

_ Hanahaki Disease _, a death by flowers. The rest of the books detail much the same: victims are fated to die from an unrequited love, hacking up petals and flowers until their lungs choke with the infection and they suffocate. 

During the initial stage, victims suffer from a light cough and the appearance of petals every few hours. The second stage is marked by a significant increase in coughing and the arrival of whole sakura flowers. The third stage delivers severe coughing, blood, and many flowers all at once. 

There are only three stages. 

Kakashi wants to laugh. They come in twos now.

* * *

An infection should be curable.

Kakashi gazes blankly at the prescription the town’s lead doctor presses into his hands. The pink petals resting on the examination table seem to wink at him mockingly, fresh from his sore throat.

“A cure is simple. I’ve cured many from love’s cruel grasp, my boy, you have nothing to fear.” The elderly woman pats his shoulder, wearing the same smile as in the articles Kakashi had discovered. “Now, be sure to switch to a diet of eggs, lettuce, fish, and plenty of ripe fruit. Remember to bathe daily with water plants, such as violets and lilies. If you’re still sick after two weeks, come back and we can try bloodletting.”

If his research proves true, there will be plenty of bloodletting, Kakashi thinks darkly and takes his leave with a cheerful ‘thanks’. In the privacy of a filthy alleyway, he hacks up another round of flowers and feels a chill run down his spine at the sight. He leaves them in the trash along with the ripped-up remains of the prescription.

The last village had touted a similar treatment and while the indigestion had taken a while to disperse. Kakashi considered it a necessary attempt for the good of science and isn’t keen on doing it again.

His throat ragged from the near constant coughing and unsure if he hallucinated the hints of blood on the flowers, Kakashi packs up his encampment and moves on to the fourth location and finds himself homesick. He wonders if Iruka misses him. He wonders if Iruka is thinking of him at all.

* * *

Doubled over and making a valiant attempt to heave out a lung, Kakashi coughs and coughs, fire burning in his throat with each rasp of breath. Cruel little flowers pop into existence, petals flecked with tiny spots of blood from Kakashi’s lungs.

“Fuck,” he says weakly, sucking in a ragged breath the second his airway is clear. He wipes the corner of his mouth with the edge of his palm and rests for a moment, closing his eyes. It’s the worst one so far, both in pain and volume of flowers. Weary, he tugs his mask into place and waits, wary of another fit. The sensation passes and he sends a tiny amount of healing chakra into his throat, soothing the burn. He then stares at the little flowers and really thinks.

Does he actually love Iruka? He admits to the crush, but outright love? Is he even capable of love? He pictures a fierce Iruka scolding him but can’t tell if his heart beats faster at the thought of seeing him again or from the itch of another fit crawling up his esophagus to choke him.

He receives his answer with the cure.

* * *

Trekking back to Konoha after a long and sleepless week, Kakashi analyzes his remaining options with as much distance as he can muster; his logic tends to go askew whenever he reaches the uncomfortable point of being brutally honest with himself and he can no longer blithely feign ignorance.

He has three options. 

The first involves letting the disease run its course and kill him, which runs counter to his optimistic plans of dying from old age. Alternatively, he can profess his undying love to Iruka in the hopes that Iruka secretly loves him, which may be dead in the water considering their history of public arguments. Lastly, he can undertake the cure and be done with it all.

The words of the medical shinobi play in his head. _ The Hanahaki infection germinates along the alveoli of the inferior lobe and then travels up the segmental and lobar bronchus after about three to four weeks. From there, it reaches the main bronchus in the superior lobe where it resides for another two weeks before reaching the third stage in the trachea. _

_ And the cure _? Kakashi had asked.

_ Simply, we conduct a bilateral clamshell thoracotomy. It involves creating an incision along your ribs in the front, across your breast-bone and peeling back the skin. Of course, we’ll be removing the majority of the ribcage to access your lungs, and from there, we can dig out the roots of the infection. Afterwards, we stitch everything back together and recovery begins. _ She had smiled at him.

Kakashi grins weakly, spitting a loose petal away. It is certainly a cure; the consequences of the surgery, not including the lengthy recovery time, would result in his inability to ever love again and a peculiar amnesia surrounding his ‘beloved person’. He would forget everything about Iruka, from the way his smiles start around his eyes, to the way his lips curl into a scowl as his temper rises, ready to lash out. Months of butting heads and heated looks gone—or is it years? How long have they played the game?

It’s either die alone with obscene amounts of suffering, or leave himself alive and loveless for the rest of his existence. Worn and uncertain, Kakashi wants to see Iruka again. He’ll decide then.

* * *

Kakashi spies Iruka speaking animatedly to another chuunin and his plans crumble to his feet.

Immediately, his heart quickens and excitement bubbles in his veins, urging him to march over and make Iruka notice him, to talk to him after such a long time apart. The exhaustion dogging him lightens for the moment and Kakashi feels free.

_ Oh, _ he realizes, stunned, _ It’s been obvious all along _. He’s in love with Iruka.

Without a second thought, he strides over. “Hey, Iruka-sensei,” he says, dismissing the other chuunin with a glance. Iruka turns to him and Kakashi freezes.

“Hatake-san,” Iruka greets coolly. Icy anger swirls in his eyes, nothing like the warm glares Kakashi is accustomed to.

Kakashi falters, unsure. "Are you alright?" A sense of dread builds in his gut.

Iruka quirks a brow. "Perhaps I should be asking you that. You never talk to me unless—" Iruka's lips thin. "Come to humiliate me further? No need, I seem to manage well enough on my own.”

A fist clenches around Kakashi’s heart. “Ah, no. No, I—”

“Great. I’ll see you around.” He turns on his heel.

Kakashi starts after him. “Iruka, wait!”

Iruka whirls around and pins him with a look that resembles hatred. “Wait? Wait for what? For you to goad me into losing my temper? I’ve had enough of you and your little comments. Is it your personal goal to make my life a living hell? What have I ever done to you?!" He takes a step towards Kakashi, thrusting a hand out to the side. "Mock me all you want, but they are _ children _ , Hatake-san, regular genin and not sociopathic little prodigies that can be _ tested _ and pushed to their limits. They're still learning! And you! I can't believe I even—" he cuts himself off, looking away. "Just leave me alone," he finishes and leaves Kakashi by himself.

Kakashi can barely breathe. _ No. No no no, it was all _ wrong. _ Iruka wasn't supposed to take his teasing seriously, it was their game! It was a fucking game! _

The thought of Iruka hating him sends Kakashi into a fit and he darts away to retch sakura flowers that are heavy with dark red blood. His entire frame jerks with the force of his coughs, his ribs threatening to snap under the assault. His vision darkens as he chokes on petals that won’t stop and an ugly rattling noise crawls from his throat as he tries to inhale, tasting nothing but blood.

_ Fuck it _ , he thinks, gritting his teeth against another wave, fighting the spasms. _ I’m not done yet. _

He’ll make a fourth option — he’ll somehow get Iruka to love him back.

* * *

As soon as the last batch finishes, Kakashi takes off towards the chuunin barracks. He scrubs blood away from his mouth and ignores the wooziness that floats around his head to knock insistently on Iruka's door.

Iruka opens the door and immediately tries to slam it shut with a loud “I said fuck _ off _, Kakashi-san!”, managing to crush Kakashi's fingers that had grabbed the door jamb.

_ "FUCK!" _ Kakashi howls and Iruka yanks the door open again, horrified.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!"

Kakashi jerks his hand back and gives it a shake, stopping when sharp pains radiate from his index and middle fingers. Iruka snatches his wrist and they both see his fingers are broken. 

Hearing their shouting, neighboring doors begin to open and Iruka pulls him into the flat with frustrated, “Dammit, come here.”

* * *

His fingers neatly bandaged and resting on Iruka's couch, Kakashi watches a cross Iruka tuck away his medical supplies, muttering under his breath the entire time. He looks back at his injuries and a warm glow in his chest grows larger. He _ loves _ this chuunin, and probably has for a long time. What a fool he’s been. Can Iruka love him back? Can he fix this?

"I'll apologize, but I think you deserved it," Iruka said finally, crossing his arms and glaring down at Kakashi.

Kakashi offers a wry smile. "No need to apologize. I do deserve it. I’m the one who should apologize."

Iruka blinks at him. His chest puffs out. "Well, that's new. Who knew the proud Copy Nin had humility?"

_ Ouch. _ "I've done quite a bit of introspection lately and learned a few things." Gamely, Kakashi stands up and faces Iruka. He sinks to his knees. 

Iruka takes a step back, a hand outstretched towards Kakashi. "O-oi,"

Kakashi can't remember the last time he was in dogeza. Prostrating himself isn't natural to him, but with Iruka, it feels _ right. _He touches his forehead to the ground, his heart beating frantically in his chest, and says quietly, "Iruka-san, please accept my deepest apologies. I've been needlessly cruel to you. I accept my injury as punishment and will accept any other form of retribution you demand. Please tell me what I can do to gain your forgiveness."

He hears Iruka gasp and does not look up, troubled by the bundle of petals blooming in his throat, coaxing him to cough. Ice forms in his veins. _ Damn it, not now! _His throat seizes and Kakashi fights it mightily.

"...for you to say that, I can't…. Kakashi-san, please get up," Iruka says gently.

The rejection hurts worse than the flowers.

Kakashi doesn't move, focused purely on holding in the batch clogging his throat. He isn't breathing. His vision begins to darken hypoxia sets in and he feels numb. He morbidly pictures the roots of the infection wrapping around the flesh of his lungs, constricting tightly, sakura flowers blooming along the stems. After everything, he's still going to die.

"Kakashi, please stand," Iruka pleads. "I need to—"

Kakashi's survival instincts beat out his mental will and he coughs harshly, ripping his mask away. Flower after flower spills out, wretched from Kakashi's lacerated lungs and throat. He can't help the pained gasps and grunts that escape him as he vomits up the beautiful flowers, drowning the soft petals with an alarming amount of blood. 

He hears Iruka shouting at him but Kakashi's ears are ringing loudly, muffling his voice. A rib or two snap on his left side and Kakashi shudders and keeps coughing, unable to stop even as the pain overwhelms him. A hand grips his shoulder and Kakashi regrets the death of what could have been. 

It's a mercy when he blacks out.

* * *

When Kakashi comes to, he recognizes the ceiling of his compound. He's home. 

Kakashi closes his eyes and groggily remembers Iruka's refusal. He thinks the surgery would have been better; the pain in his lungs and heart wouldn't exist. He tries to swallow and razor-sharp agony incapacitates him, leaving him shaking and gasping for air. The familiar slick sensation of sakura flowers creep insidiously up his throat and he leans over the edge of his bed, just in time for the barrage. It's a long while until he can draw a clear breath and Kakashi barely finds the strength to spit out the last few flowers.

A gentle hand pushes him back by the shoulder and another touches his throat, dulling the pain.

He struggles to glance up and sees Iruka worriedly hovering above him. "Thought you were almost dead for a second there," Iruka says softly.

"Give it time," Kakashi mutters and falls back, exhausted to his bones. He appraises Iruka through half-open eyes and his regrets mount. "You don't have to be here, you know,” he says hoarsely.

Iruka frowns, his hands fiddling with the edge of Kakashi's sheets. "What?"

Kakashi weakly gestures to the flowers. "It's alright, I don't need your pity. I'd actually prefer to be alone for this."

Iruka's face hardens and he produces a familiar book. "Hanahaki Disease," he says and Kakashi's heart nearly stops. 

_ So he found out. _"Hilarious, isn't it?"

"Kakashi—"

"Didn't see it coming until it was too late.”

_ “Kakashi—” _

“Not a good prognosis. The cure is—"

"Shut up!" Iruka shouts and Kakashi does. "You," Iruka begins and falters. "This," he points at the flowers, "is because of me? I did this?"

"Not intentionally and not really."

Iruka scrubs his face, hiding behind his hands. "Gods, this entire time I thought you had me singled out as a punching bag. I thought you hated me."

"I would've thought the same," Kakashi says gruffly.

Iruka glares at him, a soft version Kakashi can't recall ever seeing. "You went too far."

"I may have pushed it, but they're ready, Iruka. I wouldn't send them to their deaths." Kakashi sighs, the sound whistling oddly in his throat. Another fit is coming. "I would've liked to have seen the results,” he says wistfully.

"What? Why won't you see them?" 

"There's three stages. I'm in the final rounds," Kakashi says plainly. "Fuck, the ninken are going to be pissed."

Iruka pales. "What? It said there was a cure!"

"There was one. I didn't think it was worth it."

Iruka looks stunned and falls silent. He closes his eyes. "Kakashi, you're an idiot."

"Being cruel to the dying man—harsh."

"You're an idiot," Iruka repeats, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth, "because I've liked you for quite some time now."

It's his turn to be stunned. Kakashi blinks, his heart beating painfully. Flowers begin to tickle his ragged lungs. "What?" he rasps

"I thought you knew and purposefully came after me. Gods, what a mess."

"You?" Kakashi says and frowns. "I told you, I'm not desperate enough for pity."

Iruka ignores him, tapping him on the head with the book. "I may like you, but you have a lot to apologize for, Hatake Kakashi. Don't think I'll forgive you and fall in love just yet.”

His face crumpled in disbelief and the beginnings of hope soothing his heart, Kakashi finds he can't breathe when Iruka leans in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. When he finally can, it’s the sweetest breath he’s ever drawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching from writing long works to short little scenes has been an interesting writing experiment and I can't say I'm accustomed to it just yet.  
Let me know how I did! :D


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